The Origin of Jane the Killer
by Sapphire Sai
Summary: We all know Jane the Killer's background is a little fuzzy. So how did she come about to looking the way she does now? Everything, from her looks to her behavior is explained here. /This is my version of her background story, not anything official! Just my head-cannon/
1. Chapter 1

I had just gotten out of the shower when my iPhone bleeped and told me I had a missed call. Two, actually, but I only count my mother's call. The other one, to my chagrin, was of an ex-boyfriend who was adamant in seeing me.

What a dumbass. I had already told him I was over him months ago.

Shaking my head, I called my mom back as I pulled on some panties and hunted around for some matching bras in my luggage. Deciding that I needed both hands for the task, I clicked on "Speaker" and threw the phone on my pillows.

I was staying at a cheap hotel in my hometown fairly near my mom's house just so I wouldn't take up the guest room. Not that it was saved for anyone, but I just hated home and having the burden of laundry, dishes, and being an overall good daughter there. I was a college graduate, not a lazy good-for-nothing teenaged girl. Not anymore.

After the third ring, my mom picked up the phone and spoke cheerfully into it, but not before I heard the loud chattering and laughing in the background. And was that music, too? Since when did my mother throw parties?

"Hey, mom! How's it going? What's that I hear in the back?" I shouted after she greeted me. I was afraid she wouldn't hear me if I didn't raise my voice.

"What do you hear? Oh, the people? My God, Jane, am I that much of a hermit that you'd be surprised if I invited family and friends over? You're back from graduating college! It's time to celebrate! What time-" Someone in the background sounded muffled as they interrupted my mom. I think they wanted to talk to me.

"Hey, babe! Glad to see you... erm hear from you! God, when was the last time we saw each other?!" A familiar voice replaced my mother's voice and I nearly choked with laughter. Giddy laughter.

"_Erica_?" I swooped down on my phone and disabled the speakerphone. "Oh my _Goooood_! I haven't seen you in ages! What are you doing visiting my mom?!"

Typical girly squeals were exchanged. Hey, we are girls, right? Friends are forever, boys are whatever. I was hopping with joy, though! My bestest friends since 8th grade were there, too, as Erica blabbed on, and I chimed in with an occasional enthusiastic comment.

"Okay," I said, when she was done talking, "I'm totally going to be there! Are you kidding me? Aunt Beth, my grandma, you guys... you're all there! How could I not want to go? Especially when you're all there for me!"

"Love ya too, babe! So we're going to see you in a few minutes? Great! Oops, someone's at the door." I heard a doorbell and Erica said her goodbyes.

"Oh, yeah. See you soon! Bye!" I hung up and danced around the hotel room.

I'm not much of a family girl, but having all my relatives in one place in my honor was excellent! I could finally hang out with my friends from high school once again and we could catch up on each other's lives! It was definitely going the be the best day I've had in a while. And to think I was regretting coming back home for a short visit...

I finished getting dressed and did my hair and makeup. I decided that if I was going to meet my family and friends after not seeing them for years, I would have to dress to impress, and my overall appearance should be better than average.

I didn't want to be the Plain Jane I was before. Who cares if I overdressed? The party was thrown for me, so it should be expected.

After I threw on a cropped leather jacket, I grabbed my purse and phone, and my room key. I stuffed all of these in my purse as I strode down the hall. At this time of the evening, people were either in the swimming pool downstairs or out grabbing a bite to eat, so the halls (and quite possibly the most of the rooms) were empty. I only heard laughing and music from one room as I passed it to go to the elevators. Smiling, I knew I was going to have as good of a time as the people in there were.

I pushed the button to the elevator and waited.


	2. Chapter 2

In a few minutes, I had the engine to my car revved up and I pulled out of the parking space of the hotel. It was already late in the evening, and the sun's last rays of light were casting long and dark shadows in an attempt to get a last glimpse of this side of the Earth before rising on the other.

The night was brisk, but was still fairly decent temperature, so I wore my dark jeans and cropped jacket comfortably. I was still excited to get to my parent's house, and in being so, I realized I was exceeding the speed limit when I saw the familiar colours and lettering of a cop car up ahead.

There was no way in Hell I was getting a speeding ticket tonight. Not when there's a herd of familiar faces waiting for me just a few miles up ahead. I told myself to calm down, it wasn't a big deal, and eased the pressure I was putting on the gas pedal.

When the cops made a right at an intersection, I zoomed past traffic once the green light blinked on and decided to stop at a food shop over a bridge. My party would have to wait a minute, because I did not have coffee today, and I couldn't put up with my dad's corny old jokes on a caffeine-free diet. Call me a coffee addict, if you please.

Once I acquired my favorite scalding beverage and boarded my car once again, I was on the road to my childhood home in less than 5 minutes.

The old and familiar houses of my neighborhood brought a wave of nostalgia over me, and I replayed fond memories of good times I had playing on this street, or riding my bike on that street, or fighting the neighborhood bitch in her backyard and winning. I sighed wistfully as my car crawled to a stop in front of my destination.

But something was wrong. I sensed it in the air as I climbed out of the car and slung my purse over my shoulder. The curtains were drawn, and the lights inside were dim. My mom hated dim lights when company was present in her house, and surely someone would leave the curtains open to check when I arrived?

Coffee in hand, I dug in my purse to check the time on my iPhone. The glowing screen showed 8:47 PM. Whoa. How long has it been since I hung up? I didn't take that much time to pick out my clothes, did I? I only tried on 3 different shirts this time, not 5.

No way, maybe I took too long driving or getting my coffee. This was weird...

I shove my phone back into my purse and slammed my car door shut. In the silence of the street, it sounded like a gunshot.

My Apple Bottom heels clicked on the flagstones as I made my way up the lawn I practically memorized from at least 5 different angles in my childhood.

Before, the lawn was more or less welcoming. Now, it was giving me the feeling of dread.

I climbed up the porch steps and was about to ring the doorbell when I noticed the door was slightly ajar.

My mental alarms wailed loudly and I took a step back. Dad always shuts the door firmly, and encourages others to do so. So even if someone wanted to leave the door open for me for a second, he would have doggedly argue about the dangers of the outside world at this time of the day, even though we lived in a good neighborhood.

It was a long and boring lecture I had to go through listening to many times before, but now his words of caution rang in my head as I gawked at the open door.

No way. I had to check this out. Either my dad wasn't in the house, or something was definitely wrong.

I pushed open the door with my fingertips cautiously, and the door creaked eerily as it swung open. This felt like a classic horror movie scene... The unsuspecting victim takes the bait as she enters the killing grounds.

Every bone in my body warned me not to go in, but my body resisted the gut feeling. I stepped in and scanned the snazzily furnished living room quickly. To my untrained eye, everything looked fine. No furniture was toppled over, but there was a creepy dark stain on the wall further from me... and everyone was just... gone.

I left the front door wide open as I inched closer and closer to the couches, holding my breath. I saw the shoulder of someone lying on a loveseat, and I strained my neck to get a closer look. Who was it? A sleeping family member? This was just getting more and more bizarre by the minute...

I tiptoed (well, as much as I could in high heels) toward the couch and set my coffee on the small side table which held a vase of flowers. I leaned over the back of the seat and slowly reached over to nudge the person awake. She looked very familiar...

The body rolled over and and I almost screamed in shock. Instead, I stifled my scream with my hand and backed up to get out of there as quickly as possible. The image of a scarred, carved face covered in blood burned into my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut. What's worse is that it was Erica, mutilated to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

I bumped into someone at the doorway and just as I whirled around to see who it was, a hard, sharp thing struck me on the face and sent me sprawling backwards onto the wooden floor. I moaned with pain, and I cracked open an eye to see who the fuck it was that whaled on me for no reason. I only saw a silhouette of a man with a knife in his hand as he padded slowly toward me against the full moon outside the open door. What horrified me the most was that his eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up in a haze, my face hurting like Hell. Once the fog in my head had cleared, I soon realized that I was bound to a dining room chair, set at a table with people. Lots of people...

my own, dead family.

They were in various forms and stages of mutilation. Some with their ears cut off, others scalped or missing noses. But they all wore that jagged, bloody grin sliced into their cheeks. It was a like a gruesome tea party; a macabre dinner for the dead.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, the psycho who set this all up (assuming he's the same man who knocked me out earlier) slid from the shadows of the corner of the dark room and set down a giant plate in the middle of the dining table. I watched him, awestruck because of his awful face. It was the purest white I've ever seen on a human being, and his wild, blue eyes were ringed in perfect black circles. The worst part was that he seemed to have no nose and a smile was sliced on his cheeks, similar to my now-slaughtered family.

I clenched my fists and struggled against the ropes that held me. There was no way I was going to end up like my other family members. I would survive.

The man straightened up and grinned crazily at me. He looked to be in his-mid teens, but he could have been 25 or 30, for Christ sakes!

I struggled and grunted as he grinned crazily at me, stretching the cuts on his cheeks. "Fighting isn't gonna do anything to help." he spoke, in his gravelly sort of way.

"Who the _Hell_ are you?" I wasted no time by entertaining him with "small talk". That was pointless in this situation. When I get free from these ropes, I'm going to bash his face in for what he did to my family. He was going to pay.

He swiftly made his way around the table and stood behind my chair, placing both (bandaged and scarred) hands on either side of the chair. I leaned forward, daring him to try anything cute with a backwards glare. I knew how to fight back, even in constraints.

He also leaned forward and rasped in my ear the words that chilled my bones to the marrow. "I'm the last face you'll see before you die."

I sat frozen in terror as he moved noiselessly away from my chair and sat himself opposite from me on the other end of the table in between my dead mom and my dead aunt.

He folded his hands and gestured toward the large china plate he set in the middle.

"Y'know what that's for?" He chucked spine-chillingly. When I didn't respond, he nodded at the empty plate and said, quite frankly "It's for your head."

I leaned back and tried to clear my mind. It was obvious being scared out if my mind wasn't going to help me escape with my head intact, because clearly, this man was insane enough to try to chop it off and put it in the middle like the main course of the meal.

"Well," I said neutrally "why am I the only one who was spared tonight, then, mister... erm...?" He didn't bother to finish my sentence. Instead, he stared at me with his glowing eyes, unblinking. "You're a really pretty girl, Jane. It would be a shame to leave you to waste like all these other people." He patted my mom's back and her corpse slumped forward onto the table.

How the Hell did he know my name? I never met him before, otherwise I'd definitely remember.

He got up and grinned at me once more before dragging his chair over behind me and I was whirled around to meet him face-to-face after he tilted my chair. He sat down, and brought his face dangerously close to mine. "But I'm here to make you more beautiful. So I hope you don't mind by sitting still and letting me... work my magic."

A plan hatched into my brain as he slid a bloody meat cleaver from his hoodie pockets. I pretended to be completely cowed as he traced a smile onto my cheeks with the tip of the blade, hoping my genius plan would work.

"How should I start?" the psycho grinned menacingly. "Should I scoop out your eyes so I can have them forever, or should I have you smile while I do it?" He tilted his head with a curious look on his white face when he heard my answer. I think it would've been pretty cute if he hadn't been so horribly disfigured.

"I want a smile first. Just like yours." I hope he was gullible enough to do it.

He looked a little confused. My guess was that he wasn't used to such positive cooperation from his victims. But the asshole shrugged and went on with it, anyways.

As soon as he raised the sharp side of the blade to my face, I suddenly chomped on it like my life depended on it. It was covered in blood... uuuuhhggg.

My feet weren't tied down, so I threw my weight back, letting the table behind me catch me and I kicked the killer's crotch as hard as I could. I was wearing high heels, so that has _got_ to hurt!

He screamed angrily as he toppled backwards from the force of my kick, letting go of the knife. I managed to free a hand from my bonds and grabbed the knife from my mouth, furiously working to free my other hand.

The man stood up shakily as I freed myself and I delivered a swift kick to his head. Oh yeah! Who's got the upper hand now, loser? I silently congratulated myself. But I had to make sure he'd stay down without killing him. I hated the law, but how could I have explained a family of dead people and a dead psycho while holding a bloody knife? I'd be locked in jail for several years.

I decided to wound him so much so he couldn't move. I stabbed him multiple times on his side whilst he was on the ground, and ran off to get a phone to call the police. I hoped this man would get a life's sentence for killing my whole family. Of course, I'd have to explain why he was so badly wounded in the first place, but I think evidence would clearly show that this was self-defense.

I found my purse near the kitchen sink, emptied of its contents, including my iPhone.

The bastard...

I ran around frantically, looking for the wireless home phone, or something!

When I finally returned to the dining room, I found a pool of blood near a toppled chair and the killer was no where to be found.

Oh.

My.

God.

No. _Nonononono_! Shit, where _was_ he?! I knew I should have stabbed him to death! Screw the damn law.

My senses were heightened and adrenaline was rushing through my body. I had to find the psycho and exterminate him before he got to me at all costs. There was no way I would die by his hand!

With the knife clutched tightly in my hand, I made my way back into the living room and turned on the lights. The front door was tantalizing, beckoning me to leave, jump into my car, and race to the nearest police station. But without my car keys, where would I go? Yes, I had to go to a neighbor's house. I had to find someone who would help me. Hell, it was actually still pretty early, the wall clock told me. Only ten minutes to ten. Why not? I wasn't going to stick around and get skewered like barbecue by a white-faced freak!

I ran to the door, yanked it open

And screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

Of course he would be waiting at the front door! Where else would he expect me to run to? That damn bastard...

Blindly, I swung the knife and slammed the door in his face as he screamed in pain. I don't know where I stabbed him, but now I don't care. I needed to leave _NOW_.

I locked the door and ran in the opposite direction, hurrying past the dining room, the kitchen, and I burst through the back door. Stupid me, right? Fairly dense woods were my parents' backyard, and a deep lake occupied the middle of it.

But it was the only way I could go! It was too late to go back now. Hopefully, the murderer wouldn't chase me through the woods or at least get lost in them so I could escape. Fat chance, but it was the only plan my frantic mind could come up with.

After several minutes of running past branches whose leaves snag and thorns that murder, I had to stop. These damn heels were killing me and I was afraid that I would break my ankle. Besides, I don't think that freak was chasing me at all! A backwards glance confirmed that.

I leaned on a tree and pulled my heels off while I caught my breath. A good several minutes passed before I heard footsteps crushing leaves and twigs on the ground. I froze like a deer caught in headlights and quietly dropped my boots, ready to book it the minute I see a white, grinning face, or a shiny blade covered in blood.

The footsteps stopped really close to the tree I was standing next to and I held my breath. Up ahead, I could see the lake giving off the moon's reflection on its dark waters.

I did _not_ want to fall into that lake. Its notorious depth held many neighborhood legends and secrets, as I recalled from my childhood.

I would have to run around in a big circle and try to outmaneuver him in hopes of not getting killed.

Just as I moved to sprint in another direction, a hand seized my left arm in an iron grip and nearly tore my whole arm from its socket. I screamed and clobbered him with my free arm, struggling to loosen myself free.

No luck. He kept his grip on me as I beat his pure white face, over and over.

"You fucking _BITCH_!" he yelled, clearly pissed at me. Blood soaked his white hoodie and I vaguely wondered where the Hell the knife was that I stabbed him with earlier. He threw me against the tree I hid behind just a few seconds ago.

"Oh!" I gasped.

Aaahhh... fuck...

I looked down, eyes wide at the meat cleaver in my stomach, just below my diaphragm. Well... I guess the question of the knife is solved now. I looked back up at the sick psycho bastard, grinning at me like a fucking moron.

He shoved the blade deeper inside and I grunted in pain. He twisted it the side and ripped it out, blood gushing after it.

"AAHH! You fucking asshole! Oh my god!" I screamed in his face. "I hope you burn in Hell!" And I shoved him to the ground with the little strength I had left. I clutched at my wound and made a run for it.

I was still on my adrenaline rush, which was the only thing keeping me alive and going. I continued my trek deeper into the woods and toward the lake. Even though adrenaline was coursing through my system, I felt weaker and dizzier than I had ever before and the blood running through my fingers explained that.

I found myself stumbling over roots and ferns.

If I ever survived this, I seethed, I was going to make him pay. Pay for murdering my family, pay for stabbing me, and pay for just EXISTING. I'm going to make him regret ever stepping foot onto my street, or even being born. I'm going to-

Oof!

Someone tackled me from behind with the full force of a linebacker! We both fell hard, and I could just feel my insides wanting to gush out of my abdomen. He just wouldn't give up, would he?!

I rolled over and saw him raise an arm, ready to plunge his knife into my chest or something. With a bloody hand, I gripped his arm and stopped him.

"_No!_" I screamed.

"Why won't you just fucking DIE already?" He yelled.

He managed to stab me on the chest, dangerously close to my heart, and I coughed up blood. This is it, I thought. This is the end. My short time on Earth was going to be finished off by an escaped mental patient in the woods behind my parents' house.

What a shitty way to die.

But, just as he pulled the blade out of my chest, he grinned at me again and I felt my body being hoisted up and thrown over his shoulder.

Now, what the Hell was this idiot going to do to me?

He wasn't carrying me back the the house, I realized woozily. The blood dripped onto my face and the loss and pain so far left me weak and helpless. I kind of wondered how I was still alive.

The adrenaline was receding and I couldn't fight back. I couldn't move.

I just accepted my defeat there and then.

But...

Wait...

_Was he throwing me into the lake?_

Oh god...

I squirmed a little in panick. I didn't want to drown to my death! I hoped he gave me a pity stab to end it all. All this searing, throbbing pain...

"Oohhh..." I moaned. "Please. Just spare me already."

"Don't worry." He responded, "Judging by the steep incline, I think you'll be just fine." And with a mighty grunt, he threw me and I was airborne for a few seconds. My hair was flying in my face as I twisted and turned, trying to land on my feet. But I was no gymnast...

I landed on my back, rocks and gravel stabbing me, waking me up from my hazy stupor instantaneously. I realized what the killer meant when he said "steep incline." I rolled and rolled down the rocky hill towards the dark waters of the lake.

The world was a blur as I rolled, numbly feeling the pain of each stone penetrating my skin. I screamed all the way down my descent, and I suddenly felt a sharp, intense pain on my neck.

Everything went black before I even hit the waters.


	5. Part 2 Chapter 1

_AN: To anyone reading this story... thank you for the reads. Just giving this story a chance is really great, and I greatly appreciate that, as this is the first story I've ever publicly posted on the Internet. Now, I'm sorry that this took a while to post. Maybe upcoming chapters will take a while to post because I hit lots of hard writer's blocks and I can't get onto computers freely, since I don't have one at home. Anyways, enjoy, and... thanks for reading!_

* * *

The news of the entire murder of the Richardson family had spread throughout the community like wildfire, and by 4 days, the research facility at the edge of the small Illinois town knew every single detail about the brutal homicide.

The Richardson family was apparently throwing a party and an uninvited guest decided to take advantage of the situation. Lots of blood was shed, but investigators were more baffled by the arrangement of the dead victims. Everyone was seated at a dining room table, decapitated, with their own heads sitting on a plate set in front of them.

On a wall, CONGRATULATIONS, GO TO SLEEP was written out in blood and two chairs were empty at the table. Mostly everyone from the Richardson family were dead, but neighbors told the police that the owners of the house had a daughter, and her body wasn't there. She simply disappeared.

Everyone (even the shocked neighbors) were trying to form theories and figure out the meaning of the words on the wall, and why dead people were arranged at a table so neatly.

But scientists at the research facility didn't care much for that. They had enough technological security to feel safe and protected from a killer on the loose. They were, however, interested in the bodies. They wanted fresh corpses for a new experiment that they planned to conduct, and it would be a scientific breakthrough if it worked.

Dr. Aldine and Dr. Schwartz were fairly confident that it would. As leaders of the experiment, they put years of hard work and dedication, coming up with the ingredients for the chemical and the means to do it. The experiment itself was controversial. Was it humane or not? Would the government back them up or thwart their attempts at this?

Dr. Aldine wasn't too sure and expressed her wavering confidence to her coworker.

"It doesn't matter if it seems inhumane at the beginning, Carol." Dr. Schwartz reassured her. "If the results work perfectly, the government will surely sway towards our side."

Carol Aldine studied the records and flipped through her coworker's notes regarding the purple chemical they had worked years on. They tested it on many animals, and after many processes of trial and error, they were fairly sure that they had perfected it. They both jokingly dubbed the chemical "Liquid Hate" because all of the test subjects they used it on showed an unusual amount of aggressiveness and their fur or skin had changed to a darker colour.

"Alright," Aldine agreed "but what if the experiment goes wrong? We got it right for animals, but not humans. Not yet."

"Carol, we're going to experiment on a dead human. If the experiment goes well, they should come back to life. If not, it's not like we killed or did anything wrong, because the person we tested on is already dead!" Schwartz grinned, perfectly proud of his reasoning. He was so sure that this was going to work, as opposed to his worried partner.

"I guess so..." she said hesitantly. "It _is_ worth a try after all the work and research we've been through." Aldine bit her lip and set down the records.

Paul Schwartz walked over to a large metal container set on a counter next to some beakers and lifted the cover. With gloved hands, he lifted a large glass capsule bigger than his head. Inside, dark purple liquid sloshed around and he marveled at it proudly.

"If this works, everything we went through will be worth it." he said, more to himself than to Aldine.

All they needed now was a dead body.


	6. Part 2 Chapter 2

In a few weeks, the talk of the Richardson homicide died down, but citizens were extra careful about locking doors and windows, and they were mindful of their own safety.

The police couldn't catch the killer because of an alarming lack of evidence of any kind. No fingerprints, no hair, or any blood left behind. No DNA that could trace anyone back to the scene of the crime except for the victims themselves. The words on the wall, however, seemed to be a catchphrase of the same killer that committed other strings of murder around and in Illinois with witnesses telling about the killer uttering the words "Go To Sleep", or if there were no witnesses, "Go To Sleep" was usually written in blood somewhere where the police can find it.

In short, _everyone_ suspected a psychotic teenager dubbed "Jeff the Killer" to be responsible.

"Jeff the Killer, eh?" Schwartz mumbled behind the large newspaper he held in front of his face. He scanned the paragraphs and studied the pictures of the alleged "Jeff the Killer" with slight indifference. Jeff the Killer were simply three words on a newspaper to him.

Aldine was talking on the phone across the lab, glancing at a clipboard every now and then and looking optimistic.

"25 bodies with no family or an arranged funeral? Yes, we'd be glad to take them off your hands. More than glad! Yes... mmhm. Alright, we'll send for the bodies tomorrow." She arranged the time and hung up, turning to coworker with a smile.

"Well, Paul! It looks like we've got more than enough test subjects for this. The morgue across town has 25 unclaimed corpses. Sure, it's a little shady that the owner is willing to 'lend' them to us," she shrugged, "but... what do you say?"

Schwartz put down his newspaper and folded his arms across his chest.

"So long as we don't have to go into the morgue ourselves, I'm perfectly happy that we can get 25 bodies. Even _one_ would be sufficient." he replied.

"What, is the big, bad Paul Schwartz scared of the morgue?" Aldine joked with a smirk.

He shot her a look and smirked back at her. "Seriously, though." he answered. "Do we have a way to get them over here?"

Aldine shifted her weight onto a leg and ran her fingers through her hair. "Uhmm... well, not really. Not yet. We can order some vans and pay willing drivers, but 25 body bags in some vans driving across town toward our labs might look suspicious..."

Schwartz shook his head. "We're not going to let that little problem hold us back. The state's backed us up financially so far. We'll find a way to get us some corpses."

Sure enough, the next day two vans made a few trips and back to the morgue and the research centre, delivering the 25 bodies in body bags as promised. The research centre paid the drivers a lot of money "under the table", just in case. All went smoothly and secretly, with no one (except for the owner of the morgue and the research centre) the wiser.

Testing began almost immediately. Liquid Hate was produced by the dozen, and materials were fixed and prepared to accommodate the 25 lifeless test subjects.

"Remember, Paul." Aldine advised Schwartz, "We are still testing. Don't get your hopes up and go on thinking that we'll have 25 super humans obeying our every whim."

Schwartz just laughed and clapped his partner in the shoulder good-naturedly. He knew they weren't at the finish line yet. Although he hoped for the best, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him the worst might most likely happen.

He hoped that Murphy's Law wouldn't apply right now at this research centre. He really, really needed the money and often fantasized about the fame he'll gain once this gets out to the public.

"If this works, Carol... we'll go down in history."


	7. Part 2 Chapter 3

Everything was black. Completely pitch black, like I was permanently blind or something. But I could hear. I could hear voices, static and monotonous. They were coming from another room, through a speaker. I struggled a bit, trying to open my eyes, trying to stir my aching body and rouse it into motion.

I couldn't. I found that I was strapped down to a cold table of some sort.

Why couldn't I open my eyes?_ Argh_... there was something wrapped around my head.

A door clicked and swung open on creaky hinges, and the wheels of a cart rolled against tile floors. Yeah, I've got a good sense of hearing. But right now, that didn't really matter. I was more concerned with where the Hell I was. Was I in a hospital? Memories of... last night, last month? I don't know. Memories of the last time I saw my family flooded over in my mind.

_Mutilated, bloody..._

I found my voice. "W-where am I?" My neck was killing me, I was sure I had bruises all over my body, and my stomach only threw a dull pain radiating all over my torso.

The person who walked in rolling a cart removed some bandages from my face with gentle hands. As they fell from my face, I had to close my eyes for a second to shield them from the glaring lights.

Two big, blurry figures entered the room as I was just getting used to the bright whiteness of the room. The first person- a woman, I discovered- began injecting me with something.

"_Ow!"_ I hissed, my eyelids flying wide open. She connected a tube to the needle, which I followed with my eyes... up, up, up to a machine that contained a huge glass jar with dark purple liquid inside. The substance flowed into the tube and subsequently, into my arm.

I felt the stuff pump into my veins.

"What the fuck is that? What is that?" My voice was shrill. Were they poisoning me? Using me like a lab rat?

Again, I tried to squirm loose but I was buckled down firmly with leather straps that were impossible to break.

The woman who was apparently a nurse gave me a half-bored-half-pissed look before taping the tube onto my arm and rolling the cart past the two big men and out the door. The two big men who walked just a minute ago moved to either side of me. Body guards, I suppose. The buff guys who get the dirty shit done.

At that moment, two other people in traditional lab coats stepped in. They looked like crap, to be honest. The guy scientist was handsome, but he'd look better without his disheveled hair and bags under his eyes. I'd've guesstimated his age to be in his mid-fourties.

He was the first one to talk.

"Good morning, Miss Richardson. You're probably wondering why you're here and how we resuscitated you."

"Yes," I blurted out, "and who the Hell are you people?"

"You're in the local research facility just out of town. We found your corpse behind your family's house. Your_ brutally_ slaughtered family." He added. I glared at him.

The second scientist, who was a middle-aged woman, put a hand on his shoulder. Her blonde hair was disheveled as well.

"Look," she said after giving her partner a critical glance, "long story short, we are running an experiment on corpses to revive and replenish them. We found you in the lake, as Paul said, after police started clearing out. A couple of our nosy interns were sniffing around your place and went deep enough into the woods to find your corpse floating in the lake. Halfway into the project, you were added as a test subject."

"All of our test subjects failed." Her partner broke in. The way he said it, with the pure look of despair in his eyes shut us all up for a minute.

A moment passed, as long as a century.

"But now, you- Jane Richardson-saved our research. We finally did it."

Both of them were tearing up now, smiles plastered onto their faces.

I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

"We drained your body of all the blood it had before filling you with Liquid Hate. It's the chemical we created for this experiment. The purpose of it was to bring you back to life, and make you faster... stronger... and you'd be able to live longer." Paul went on, "Basically, you'd be a superhuman. However, after 25 trials and errors and tons of other money lost, we were ready to give up until we remembered that we had you in our morgue for a few weeks."

Paul nodded when he finished, and we both knew that I could finish the rest of the story.

"So," I said in a husky voice, "you're telling me that I really did die, and I was rotting away underwater until you found me and injected this purple crap into me?" For some reason, I was disgusted, hurt, and relieved all at the same time.

Both scientists nodded after exchanging glances.

"Can I ask your names?"

Paul chuckled and shook his head. "Silly us, tired and stressed beyond belief. Where are our manners?"

"My name is Carol Aldine," said the middle-aged blonde lady, "and this is my coworker Paul Schwartz."

"Thanks," I heard myself say. That was the day I realized that mind and body are truly separate things, and that your body doesn't need you to work itself. I was on autopilot right now.

"Please leave. I think I need some time alone right now."

So, after laying here strapped onto a table for half an hour under dim lights illuminating a cold room, I pondered my current state of affairs carefully. What I've pieced together from my alarmingly sharp memory is this:

I got invited to a party at my family's house but apparently a psycho murderer got there before me and... well, did his dirty work. We had a little battle in the woods and he ended up throwing me down a hill into the lake. I broke my neck in the process, dying instantly. Police investigated my family's death but I was so deep into the woods and I had sunken into the lake, so no one found me.

The only way I could have been found a little later is if I had somehow floated back up. But did I? How did 2 interns find me while stumbling blindly around, and not professional cops?

That was a bit shady...

I looked back up at the tube that sent "Liquid Hate" (whatever that was) into my veins. They'd been doing this a while, I could guess. There's no way the transition from stone-cold death to animated life would be quick.

As I was lying on the table, I thought more about that fateful night.

The blood...

The severed parts...

Eerie silence and snagging branches...

Black ringed eyes, a pure white face and a red Glasgow Smile.

I wasn't afraid anymore. The pictures in my mind, the memories... they meant nothing to me right now. The only thing that mattered right now

was to hunt down and kill that psychotic bastard.


	8. Part 2 Chapter 4

_AN: Cover picture is an image edited by marshmallowcookiwolf_

_ art/Jane-The-Killer-361929210_

_Anyways, to my readers, thanks for reading so far! these few chapters have kinda been "the quiet before the storm". Stuff will get a little crazy and hectic, but I promise you, these "build-up" chapters are going to be useful for later on. Have a nice day :}_

* * *

Over the course of a month, I let them experiment. They released me from the table in the small room after a wave of violent, homicidal thoughts crossed my mind. I almost broke free from the room. I kind of resented the Liquid Hate at first; the pumping of weird chemicals into my body was something that did not sit well with me at first. But over time, I realized that the scientists were right: this Liquid Hate made me stronger.

They wanted me to show off my new abilities. They called it "training" but we all knew they wanted me to perform for them. I knew that in order to be set free, I had to please these people, who thought I was under their control simply because they revived me and were guarding me with guns and buff guys and cameras. Honestly, I had better things to do than "train" over and over just so I can be evaluated by people hiding behind a bullet proof glass holding clipboards. Like maybe getting my revenge. I dunno.

"Training" took place in a really big room with stained white walls and concrete floors. It's a low-maintenance kind of makeshift gym with tires and blocks and punching bags scattered throughout the room. There are no windows, of course. The lights overhead flickered whenever I punched something too hard, and whenever I used... my newfound _powers_.

Along with speed, strength, and an alarmingly fast healing rate, I somehow gained special powers and abilities regarding "mind fucking".

I can create any illusion to trick people into believing something, and I can shape-shift into anyone. This entertained the scientists, most notably Paul.

They put me through all kinds of tests you can imagine. They were seriously counting on me to ride into fame. Poor souls.

One test taught me that the forms of people I take don't affect my strength and abilities. Under close scrutinization with robotic cameras and machines hooked onto my body, I shape shifted into a little 7 year old girl and was instructed to break a 500 lb. cinder block in half by a man through a speaker. I did this flawlessly.

I took many psychological tests. The results were fine, other than the fact that I regarded the lives and wellbeing of others less. With what I've been through, wouldn't anyone?

But I suppose all of these silly tests and training sessions aren't really all going to waste. I'm discovering what I can do, and I can do a lot, it seems.

Recently, I've been planning for a goal: to escape. With the amazing powers I have now, it shouldn't be too hard. I just need to escape this facility with the least amount of ruckus as possible.

Every time I am put to a test, I try my damn hardest to do it perfectly... not to please this stupid facility and their work, but to learn faster and grow stronger so I can find a way to assure my escape.

I've planned escape routes using a map I stole from the front desk after bribing a couple of researchers and a nurse. I study this vigorously and make potential paths with my blood. Black blood that, when dried up, turns purple. How great.

Anyways, as I spend more time in this facility, communicating with scientists, and walking around with guards all around me, I notice that I wasn't the only "experiment" walking around here. There were a few weirdos around like me, some shuffling along in shackles while heavily guarded, others rattling their barred doors and moaning for freedom.

They were trapped, mentally and physically. I felt much more privileged and free just listening to their eerie cries for help floating down the hospital-scented hallways. I should have felt pity or remorse, but... hahaha... I didn't. Why should I? My problems are bigger, if not equal to theirs. I'm working to obtain the very thing they plead for.

Maybe this Liquid Hate is changing my mentality, but I don't care. I knew throughout all my life that the less compassion and attachment I have for someone or something, the better off I will be.

But then again, part of that could have also been that I had witnessed my entire family and some of my friends killed by a certain Grinning Psycho.

As each day passes, I can taste my freedom more and more. It's so close. I pass by exits while being escorted from room to room and sometimes I catch myself staring at them longingly. I've already fully formulated my plan.

I just need to make sure I have just _one_ more special trick up my sleeve.


	9. Bridge

_AN: A short little one. As the title suggests, this is a bridge between the boring stuff and the interesting stuff that will come later! Guess who's responsible for all this? ;}_

* * *

_He sits upon his throne._

_Surrounded by screaming, corrupt souls, his name is chanted along with praises and prayers to his existence._

_Humans are weak. They are flawed, and he takes advantage of this. Soon, the end of the world will come about, but he has to prepare._

_The latest installment is a beautiful young woman._

_She'll be useful._

_He's pulled the strings, and everything is falling into place. Thanks to his 50th son, he's closer to world domination and destruction._

_An orb floats from behind his throne and settles at his feet, allowing him to watch her._

_Jane Richardson._

_He just has to make sure she escapes successfully, and he can move her timeline to coincide with the others'._

_After that, she'll just be another cog, one of many that turn and speed up the process of his plans to cause mayhem on Earth like a cogwheel makes a clock work._

_There will be time for play._

_He clasps his claws together, obviously pleased._

_Work will be as fun as playtime._


	10. Part 2 Chapter 5

"So." I leaned on the counter in the preparation lab and folded my arms across my chest. "You're saying I _can_ do other stuff besides shapeshifting and illusion-forming?"

After a few days the research facility deemed me safe and sane enough to walk about the building freely and socialize, so here I was talking to Carol Aldine about that special trick I wanted to make sure I could do. It would be the last step to completing my plans and actually putting it into action.

Dr. Aldine cleared her throat uncomfortably and gave me a sidelong glance. I smiled. I learned that she was the mousy one, the pushover. I mean, I wasn't trying to be a bully or anything, but I wanted to get my way and in order to do that, I needed someone who could give me answers.

I bet she was praying that her coworker would come waltzing in and save her. I don't know why she was scared of me. I was a normal woman, wasn't I? Aside from the fact that I was dead for _weeks_, according to their story.

As if on cue, Dr. Schwartz entered into the room, pulling off his reading glasses. He looked a little _too_ happy.

"We've sent the videos and letters to the officials! Soon we're gonna be big! People nationwide will want to meet our- ahem, I mean Jane. We'll be shaking hands with famous scientists from Europe!"

Aldine jumped and I turned to Schwartz to give him my best soul-piercing glare.

"W-wait, what? Already? Paul..." she hissed.

Uurgh! Seriously!?

"You are such an unbelievably egoistic asshole, you know that?" I yelled after him when Aldine grabbed him by the shoulder and ushered him into her office.

There were other assistants and researchers who were working in the lab, craning their heads and peeking behind computers. I turned around to face them.

"What?" I retorted.

Not a hairline was in sight a second later.

I stalked out of the office and made my way around the halls to a nearby bathroom. I was pissed! Not only did he just want to just use me as a way to get into the news and T.V. shows, but he didn't even let anyone know about it until afterwards! I'm human, too! Well, kind of. I never liked Paul, anyways. Me and him always argued, but I guess my temper has gotten worst since that purple sludge they injected into me took effect.

My rage built until I reached the ladies' bathroom and slapped the doors open. Maybe I'll teach him a lesson by shapeshifting into a hot scientist, seducing him, and posting the video online so it can cause a scandal! Or maybe I'll just beat him up after Aldine gives... him... a good...

_LECTURE?!_

I stared at a reflection in the huge bathroom mirror. A woman with black hair, the whitest skin possible on a human, and soulless black sockets replacing her eyes tentatively tiptoed closer to the mirror as the door shut behind her. I raised my hand to touch my face; as did she.

I knew my hair changed colour. The scientists warned me about that and I didn't care. Dark hair looked good on me anyways. But they never let me have a mirror, and I saw why. I stared deep into my non-existent eyes.

I closed them, touched my eyelids. No... they were indeed there, just black all the way around. How was it that I had perfect 20/20 vision even when they were like this?!

I gawked at the mirror with my mouth open some more before I grew angrier and angrier.

I looked like a witch! I didn't care if my skin was smooth and my wavy hair was as glossy and dark as a raven's feather. I didn't care that I could run faster than Usain Bolt, or that I could smash slabs of concrete with my bare hands.

_I was a freak!_

Screaming, I smashed the mirror with a fist and hurried out of the bathroom with "vendetta" burning boldly into my freakish orb-like eyes.

They wanted a lab rat? Fine.

_He pulled a chord..._

They wanted to use me like a test dummy in a gym? Fine.

_Wound it with another._

I stomped around a corner and burst into the lab.

_Flames rose and he grinned._

"Paul!" I screamed. "Carol!" They both swiveled their heads towards me, their previous expressions still glued to their faces, until they saw me breathing fire.

"I look like a _freak!"_

_Now, my dear Jane, let your temper feed the flames of progression. Let me pry your soul from your body so you don't slow down. Don't worry, he chuckled. You won't feel a thing. And neither will you remember it._

I don't know what I was doing, but I was doing it. Heavily armed bodies crashed into the lab, and chaos ensued. My hands were wrapped around Carol's neck, and the rest of the facility scurried away loudly, dodging shots as it rang out around me, penetrating my skin.

I was surprised at my own rage, and lack of self-control! But it wasn't me doing those things... I was watching a pale, raven-haired woman with black soulless eyes doing it. She looked like me, but it surely wasn't me? If so, then who was I?

I drifted somewhere above all the destruction while I watched that woman tear people apart limb from limb. She even threw acidic chemicals at passing researchers and freed all of the other test subjects when she managed to escape the preparation room. They got their revenge and freedom along with her, too. Sirens blared and lights flashed, but she was hungry for blood. Wielding an axe she got from a glass case on a wall, she proceeded to brutally hack at any living persons within her field of view, even the test subjects she freed earlier.

All the while, a deep rumbling voice, accompanied by numerous other voices reassured me that this "was necessary for progress". My head was foggy, and the corners of my vision was dark and clouded over. I was having an out-of-body experience, I bleakly concluded. But then who was talking to me? It sounded like he had seven voices, or more.

I was in a half-awake-half-asleep state before I finally blacked out, screaming and rumbling voices and blood still fresh in my mind.


	11. Part 2 Chapter 6

I snapped my head back up. Everything was quiet, since everyone was dead.

I slowly stood up from my crouched position over a demented test subject, holding his still-beating heart in my hand. Disgusted, I threw it to the ground. I was soaked in blood. My hair was dripping (some of it) and my clothes obviously showed the intensity of the rampage I went through.

What happened? My god, did I turn into the Incredible Hulk and hit my head so hard that I don't remember anything?

Tiptoeing around numerous dead bodies in the hall, I stared at all the blood and the mess I made. Papers, chairs, I.V. bags, and documents were scattered everywhere. Eventually, I reached the main lobby, with the exit signs glowing, displaying what I've longed for all these weeks I've been incarcerated here in all its glory.

I stood there. Everything was eerily silent. Not a thing stirred as I stared at my reflection in the glass doors. It was already dark out, since it was the beginning of winter, and I realized I wasn't properly dressed to traipse around in the snow, looking for a way to catch the cold-blooded killer who got me here in the first place.

I needed a winter coat. Maybe some sunglasses to hide my freakish eyes. I could make up a lie, say I was blind. I turned and hurried to the nurses' room behind the reception desk. They usually hung their coats and such in there, just before they started a grueling day's work.

As the waiting room signs came into view, I saw a decapitated woman about my size in height and weight thrown over the reception desk so her neck leaked blood onto floor to add to the pool of dark red already present from other victims. She wasn't dressed in the usual white coat or dress-shirt. Maybe she was a visitor. Who cares...

She wore a black turtleneck, dark jeans, and some stylish black suede boots.

I hopped over the blood and the desk to the other side and thanked the powerful cosmic forces out there that I could have a change of clothes with no blood on it! Now, to get them off of her...

The boots were a cinch, but the pants and shirt were a little tricky. Either way, a few minutes later, I managed to pull the clothes off of the corpse with only a little blood smeared on the turtleneck and swap them with my facility-given uniform.

They were comfortable and fit nicely for the weather outside. What more could I ask for?

Shoving the woman aside so she fell on the ground, I turned to the nurses' room and opened the door. It smelled like perfume in there. And blood. Oh yeah. There were a couple of dead women in here, along with a dead test subject. I could have guessed what went on in here...

I quickly spotted a long, leather coat with a black scarf draped over the hanger on one of the lockers. Gee, these nurses sure liked to be well-dressed outside of work. With the amount of money they get from this facility, I wouldn't blame them. I took that and slipped it on, finding gloves in the pocket. I was dressed all in black. It seems to suit me well. I have thoughts as dark as my new eyes, especially now. I want to find that psycho bastard and exterminate him just as brutally but less mercifully as I killed all of these people in the building. I just had to find a way to locate him and kill him.

His stupid but terrifying grin was still burned in my mind. There was no mistake about it; if I saw him, I would know. His face isn't exactly anything _ordinary_.

But how in the Hell was I going to get away from this facility which is miles away from the nearest town in the middle of a winter night? I'm not walking, that's for sure.

I left the room, shutting the door behind me... and then it hit me! I once saw Paul pull up to the facility parking lot. I memorized his license plate number, and I even know what the car looks like. He always threw his keys in a desk drawer in his office, which is never locked. Ahh... my luck is incredible today! Remembering this, I practically skipped down the chaotic corridors back to the lab. It was as if some invisible being was arranging things just to my convenience. Haha! I have a great chance of getting out with no troubles at all! My dreams come true at last.

When I reached the lab, I gingerly picked over spilled chemicals and broken glass. It didn't matter, I was here for the car keys which was my only way to freedom. I saw his office door, busted in, and rummaged through junk, documents, and old newspapers in his desk drawers. I even found a porn magazine. Huh. Men, I guess.

After my 3rd drawer, I finally got the keys and contentedly made my way out again. However, a newspaper clipping pinned to the bulletin board next to the door caught my eye and I had to hit the brakes.

A picture of a grinning, psychotic face was bordered by the usual newspaper articles.

The headlines read...

**_JEFF THE KILLER STRIKES AGAIN_**

_The notorious "Jeff the Killer" strikes it rich- in bodies- as he rampages through the great state of Illinois..._

I skimmed through the article until I found...

_...suspected of murdering the Richardson family. Now, only a few distant relatives are left to puzzle over the homicide, while the whole of Illinois is cowering in fear._

I almost dropped the car keys.

A smile slowly spread through my face and I tore the clipping down.

Hahaha... _hahahahah!_

I finally found you... Jeff.


	12. END

_AN: Last chapter, and a final end to this dumb story I've kept cooped up in my mind for a while! Phew, at least I got that off my bucket list! I want to thank anyone who's faved, reviewed, or even just gave this ill-paced story a try. Means a lot, actually :}_

_In this chapter I referenced a quote and stuff from either Tumblr, and other JTK spin-off stories. See if you can find them!_

_Review, review, review, and tell me what you think of this all! Didja think it was too slow, or too fast paced? Let your voice be heard!_

* * *

Cruising on the freeway out of this stupid town, I've had some time to gather my thoughts. The quiet drive was especially helpful and calming to my nerves, after that hectic out-of-body experience I just had several minutes ago.

The snow silently hitting the windshield were quickly swept off rhythmically by the wipers, giving my thoughts a sort of background beat to keep steady on. Now that I was set free from the facility, I had a lot of things to think about, and the speed I was going was comfortable enough for me to do so.

First off, I needed to figure out where I was headed. I needed a comfortable place to stay, whether I had to take it by force or not. I took a few wallets I had scavenged for in the building, and I think I'm okay for food right now. But I eventually would need a job to sustain myself. With my pale white skin and all-black eyes, who would even dare to hire me for anything? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. Right now, all I know is that I was going to have to depend on my instincts and do a lot of stealing, lying, bribing, and possibly killing to get around anywhere anymore.

My main goal in life- if this is even a life I'm in- is to catch and kill that son of a bitch Jeff the Killer. I glanced at the newspaper clipping I played on the passenger's seat, and returned my gaze to the white stretch of road ahead. If I was going to do that, I was going to need connections and wits. But I'm pretty sure it won't be hard to catch his misdemeanors on the news every once in a while. As I've remembered, he isn't exactly "graceful" when it comes to taking care of business. He'll leave a path for me to follow, somehow.

Since everyone is sure I'm dead, and I have no I.D. or close living relatives, this life is going to be a little hard.

I gripped the steering wheel with gloved hands. It'll be fine. Thinking about slicing that psychotic bastard and pulling his blackened heart out of his chest with a rusty spoon made all of this crazy shit worthwhile. I hoped. I mean, the worst part... "the transformation"... is over. Bribing people to make me fake I.D.s, give me money, and basically just moving on ahead with my "life" won't be so hard. Now that I've got these awesome powers, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to catch him and skin him alive.

After all, revenge is a dish best served cold, right? That reminded me... of a thing my mother always told me when I was younger and was just recovering from a fight at school or in the neighborhood. _"If you play, you play it out nice. But if you're serving for revenge... be sure it's fatal._

My mother was a strange woman. But she's dead now, along with all of my immediate family and some of my friends.

I narrowed my eyes. Yes, mommy dearest was right. _Too_ right. I'm going to make sure the revenge I get when I finally meet Jeff again will be ice cold and fatal. In the meantime, I'll be a sort of a nomad, finding the best possible ways to get around. Chasing a serial killer never before caught by the police- or anyone, really- will be a little challenging, but I'm going to try my damn hardest to make sure the memory of my family doesn't go to waste.

I reached over and clicked on the radio, turning up the volume up and surfing through stations until I landed on one reporting about a "homicide" in Iowa, a few miles from the state border. A woman described the scene as accurately as the media could in this country.

"...scene was a 'bloody mess', as state officials claimed the brutal homicide was indeed the work of a previously escaped mental patient from Wales, dubbed 'Jeff the Killer' by the public..."

I twitched.

Alright. I know where to go now. I chuckled and switched the station to one playing some popular hip-hop song and I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat happily.

Don't worry, Jeff. I'm gonna hunt you down like the animal you are and erase your existence from this planet _permanently_. Go to sleep? I recommend you don't, because I'm going to be the last face you'll ever see before you die, and you won't even see me coming. I promise.

**END**

...Or is it?


End file.
